Special Relativity
by Chiisarin
Summary: When Hermione first found herself back in her fourth year, she figured it was some illusion, a Confundus spell, or just some really bad dream. She figured wrong.
1. first trajectory

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

_._—.

_1. first trajectory_

"Hermione! Hermione, wake up!"

Hermione blinks her eyes, feeling like she'd been jolted out of some deep dream. Rubbing her eyes as she tries to wake herself up, she mumbles, "Mm, what's wrong, Lavender?"

Lavender huffs. "Finally. I've been trying to wake you up for ten minutes now! Your alarm has been been driving me _crazy_. I know you want to be early to class, but please turn it _off_."

"Class? Today's Saturday..." Hermione trails off, catching sight of her bedside calendar. "...It's Friday?!"

"Yes. It is. Now, will you _please_ turn your alarm off?"

But Hermione is already rushing out of bed and changing into her robes, not even listening to Lavender anymore. In a record of seven minutes, she's done and is rushing out the door, only just remembering to turn off at the alarm at Lavender's yell as she runs past.

Within minutes, she's arrived in the Great Hall and plops down beside Ron and Harry, heaving as she tries to catch her breath from running so much. Slamming her heavy bag to the ground, she stops to take another breath before reaching for a piece of toast.

"Morning," She says simply, ignoring the two's stares as she starts to eat.

"Blimey, Hermione, you're the only one who would rush to be early to breakfast," Ron remarks, mouth full of omelet. Hermione tactfully ignores looking at him, only giving him a momentary glare.

"Well, I can't help but notice that the two of you are early as well." She looks between the two. "Anything special today?"

Harry and Ron suddenly busy themselves with their breakfast, refusing to meet their eyes.

"It's nothing," Harry insists.

"We just though we'd try it, you know?" Ron adds.

Hermione suspiciously looks at the two of them and raises an eyebrow. For a moment, she decides that she's not going to push it but then her curiosity quickly wins her over."Alright, what's going on."

Ron only hesitates for a second, glancing around suspiciously, before leaning closer to Hermione and saying in a low a voice,"Well, Harry and I overheard Professor McGonagall talking and it turns out the they're arriving today!"

"Who's arriving today?"

"Shh!" Ron hushes her, looking around again, though it looked like no one really heard or cared. He turns back to Hermione. "You know, the other schools?"

At Hermione's blank look, he continues. "For the Triwizard Tournament! Harry and I, we figured that maybe if we arrived early, we might be able to catch a peek of them. Though I guess they're not here yet..."

Hermione laughs. "Ron, are you daft? The Triwizard Tournament hasn't been—"

She stops and all the sleepiness drains out of her as she catches sight on Ron's face. For a few seconds, she's just frozen as she stares and stays like that until Ron's voice snaps her out of her daze.

"What? Do I got something on my face?'

Hermione shivers out of her reverie, and shakes her head, plastering a smile on her face. "No, I was only seeing things."

_(Why do you look like you're fourteen years old, Ron? You haven't had long hair since last year.)_

Ron just shrugs, and within seconds, him and Harry are talking about the new arrivals, mostly Ron fantasizing about the Beauxbatons girls while Harry, not really paying attention, tries to inconspicuously stare at Cho. Hermione, free of their attention, takes the time to look around and suddenly notices all the differences.

It wasn't just Ron—_everyone_ looked about two years younger. And Ron had mentioned the Triwizard Tournament... Was this some sort of elaborate prank?

"Hermione, c'mon. Let's go to Transfiguration."

Hermione breaks out of her daze and gathers up her stuff, following Harry and Ron out of the Great Hall. As they walk, she reaches into her bag to take her out notes and review them quickly, when—BAM!

"Oof!" "Ah!"

Hermione finds herself on the floor, backpack and books strewn beside her. She starts to pick them up distractedly, about to reach the last book when she sees a hand holding it out to her.

"Oh thank you," She says as she takes it, rising up as she puts the books back into her bag. "Sorry about that."

"I must apologize as well; I'm afraid I wasn't looking where I was walking," The other person says, and just as Hermione's about to reply, she looks up and stops.

"D-diggory," She stutters out, the name slipping before she can stop it.

There stood Cedric Diggory, looking just as she had remembered, and _very much alive_. For a moment, she's just frozen as she stares at him, unable to stop herself. This was no prank—surely no one would be that cruel. And he had felt so warm when she had bumped into him... Maybe...

_Had she somehow landed back into her fourth year?_

But Hermione quickly squashes the thought; not only was it unlikely, seeing as she hadn't had a Time-Turner since her third year, but it just wasn't possible to go back as far as two years. There was probably some other cause, maybe she had accidentally ingested a potion that would cause her to relive some of her memories. Or she was probably still asleep. There's definitely an explanation. A proper, reasonable explanation.

Cedric's face lights up in recognition. "Oh that's right! You were there at the World Cup, weren't you! Hermione Granger, am I right?" At her nod, he continues. "Well, it's nice to see you again! I hope I didn't ruin of your notes, did I?"

"No, I think they're fine." (She was talking to a dead person. Having an almost normal conversation with a _dead person_.)

"That's good. Well, maybe I'll see you around?"

"Yeah." (Dead dead dead _dead_.)

And as Cedric turns to leave, Hermione can't help but stare at his retreating back, still somewhat dazed, yet at the same time, mind running thousand miles per hour. This was just some illusion, a Confundus charm of some sort.

_But what if the whole thing was real?_

And then McGonagall's words from her third year echo in her head, hammering into her head the rules of time travel, _do not be seen and do not meddle with events Ms. Granger_, but the idea has already sneaked into her mind before she could stop it and she can't but fantasize about the possibility. Even if was wrong, illegal, and dangerous, if she really had gone back in time, if she really was in her fourth year... could she change the future?

Could she save Cedric's life?

A few seconds later, she turns and catches up with Ron and Harry who had been waiting and watching the conversation the whole time. Ron, in particular, was glaring at her, making Hermione suddenly feel self-conscious as she crosses her arms.

"What?" She says defensively.

"Didn't think you were the type to go after a pretty boy like _Diggory_," He sneers as he looks her up and down. "Only care about looks now, do you?"

Hermione narrows her eyes, but just as she's about to reply with a full-brown criticism about _his _taste, she stops, realizing that this was not the time. After all, the whole thing probably wasn't even real. So instead, she only gives him a baleful, "Shove off, Ron" before turning to Harry and asking, "Tell Professor McGonagall that I'm not feeling too well, okay?"

And she turns around, stalking straight off in the other direction.

"The Hospital Wing is the other way!" Harry calls from behind.

"I know! I'm going to the library!"

There was some reasonable explanation, one that made sense, one that fit into the laws of magic and time and paradoxes. She just had to find it.

.—.

One hour later and Hermione can only come to one conclusion.

"Merlin, I'm in the past."

.—.

**Author's Notes:** I always love the going back-in-time-to-a-younger-self stories, except I had always wished there were some more that were centered on Hermione. So here's my contribution! I'm hoping it won't turn out too predictable and overdone. I'm just setting up in this chapter, but things will pick up soon. But please, tell me what you think or give me possible ideas—any feedback, good or bad, is appreciated. And thank you for reading! =D

* * *


	2. second trajectory

_Disclaimer: Still don't own Harry Potter._

_._—.

_2. second trajectory_

And at first, Hermione's immediate question was: _how do I get back_?

But she knows it's useless to wonder about it—her presence in this time has already had a ripple effect, and by the time she might be able to figure out a way to get back, the future that she would get back to would be too different to be worth the effort. Just by being here, she had created an alternate universe with no way to get back.

Then should she do now?

Glancing at the time, Hermione gives a sigh at seeing how much time she had spent in the library. Though she was on good enough terms to skip Transfiguration and Charms without too much of a punishment, she knew she couldn't skip Potions. Reluctantly, she puts away all of her research and drags herself to class, barely noticing Harry and Ron's concerned looks.

"Hermione, are you okay?" Harry asks, but she's saved from replying when Snape enters the room and immediately hushes the room.

" Today, we'll be making...."

And as Snape talks, Hermione finds herself dazing out, mind just running through the possibilities and different scenarios. Within minutes, she's lost in her thoughts, barely paying attention to the potion.

_Should she tell someone? Especially since Harry had just told her how Dumbledore had kept the prophecy a secret, could she trust Dumbledore? Or what if she didn't tell anyone? Could she manipulate the future still? __Should she? Or should she Obliviate herself? Perhaps humans weren't meant to have to knowledge of the future for a reason—would it be too much for her to handle? And what about Moody, or rather, Crouch?_

"Miss Granger!" Snape suddenly barks and she jumps, almost dropping the ingredient she had just been about to put in. And then she suddenly looks at what she's holding and gasps—if that had even _touched _the potion...

Snape takes notice of her expression and curls his lips as he drawls, "Very good, Miss Granger, you seem to have realized your mistake. Though I can't help but wonder what you could have been daydreaming about to have distracted you so much..."

There is a hushed silence as they engage in a sort of a contest to see which can outlast the other. Hermione makes a great effort as she tries not to meet his eyes and doesn't respond—memories of Harry's complaints about his Occlumency lessons come to her mind and she knows that she can _not _let Snape find out what she was thinking about. So instead she waits it out, until Snape finally just says, "10 points from Gryffindor for inattention to the work at hand."

For the rest of the period, Hermione then especially directs her attention towards her potion, ignoring the whisperings and the looks. When Snape finally dismisses them, she immediately rushes out, determined not to talk to anyone or possibly be held back by Snape, only stopping when she finally arrives at the library.

Of course she would come to the library—this place was her sanctuary. However, this time, instead of going to the time-travel books, she goes towards the reference section and grabs _Hogwarts, a History_. No matter how many times she read it, every time, she was able to recall her initial amazed feeling and was always able to find something new, until reading the book become a sort of nervous habit to calm her down as she read over the familiar words.

However, when she went to her usual table, she found someone else already there: Cedric Diggory.

It was as if the gods seemed to be taunting her today, dangling in front of her the possibility, the _life_ she could save—_no, don't think about that yet_. And so, for a moment, she awkwardly stands there and she wonders what to do when he looks up and notices her.

"Oh, it's you Granger... That's right, I always see you at this table; I'm sorry, did I take your spot?" He makes a motion to move, but Hermione stops him.

"It doesn't matter," She says. "Please, I don't mean to deprive you of a seat."

He gives her a bit of a grateful smile, and then Hermione suddenly notices just how stressed out he looks (_she could save this life, she could save this face, this person_). She hesitates for a moment, about to ask if something was wrong, when her eyes catches sight of the books in front of him. They were history books, all opened to the sections about the Tri-Wizard Tournament. And she suddenly understand.

"So, you thinking about entering the Tri-Wizard Tournament?"

Cedric looks up, surprised. "It is that obvious?"

"Well..."

And then he follows the direction of her gaze and lights up in understanding, the surprise turning into a bashful smile. "Yeah, my mates have been telling me that I should enter."

"Do you want to?" Hermione asks curiously.

"Well, I don't really suppose it would make a difference. I'm probably not going to be chosen, anyway." He pauses for a moment as he mulls over the idea, before adding, "Though I'm sure Father would be rather proud."

Hermione snorts. "Out of all things, you _really _shouldn't be taking that into consideration. This is _your life_, we're talking about here, not just some issue of pride or ego."

Cedric laughs, seeming to relax a bit as he talks."Well, I can't say I've heard that reaction before. What _do _you think about this while Tournament, Granger?"

"Honestly, in my opinion, Hogwarts shouldn't have even brought back the Tournament. It's dangerous and we're potentially killing off one of our best students that might come out and change the world in ways we would never know!"

She stops, suddenly self-conscious of how she had let herself get into a rant. But Cedric doesn't seem to mind, chuckling at her whole speech.

"Granger, you aren't much of a romantic, are you. Have you sense of adventure?" With a faraway look in his eyes, he holds himself upright as he repeats Dumbledore's words. "_Eternal glory, that is what awaits the student who wins the Triwizard Tournament!_"

At those words, Hermione can't help but feel a chill roll up her spine and before she knows it, she's responding it a sharp tone. "Glory at the price of death is a worthless prize."

Immediately, she can't help but feel embarrassed at how upright she sounds, but then she notices that Cedric's gray eyes are upon hers, that he's actually paying attention, that he's actually _listening_, almost as if he thought her opinion was worth something. (_She could change his mind_.)

And so, feeling herself grow a bit more confident, Hermione goes on. "Well, I mean...Taking Plato's definition of happiness, such a state of feeling cannot be dependent on something as unstable and changing as other people or society. Instead, we should derive our happiness from our own accomplishments and from our own inner enlightenment..."

"So really, this tournament does nothing for you. It'll give you an inflated ego and you might have the respect of your peers, but in the face of it all, your well-being has not been improved the slightest by surviving such a situation."

By now, she would have thought Cedric would be laughing at her. After all, what fifteen-year old (though technically, she was sixteen) would reference _Plato_ out of all things in a discussion? But, to her surprise, he instead takes it in stride, nodding in understanding as he listens before he goes to on reply.

"Well, that might be the case for you, Granger; after all, your obstacles are all mental obstacles, obstacles from a lack of understanding and knowledge. But other people? Their obstacles take form in a physical sense." He pauses as he tries to think of an example, before going on when one comes to him. "For example, Quidditch—if you think about it, the same obstacles that one faces when learning also comes into play while playing. If you miss a shot, it's because you lacked the execution of taking the proper variables into play—well, I guess it also depends on reflex, but that's a factor you have to take in too, right?"

"The Triwizard Tournament isn't so different—it's the same situation as you attempting to read a seventh-year textbook. We're setting particularly high standards for the sake of challenging ourselves, and when you come out alive, it's the same feeling as getting through a particularly difficult text. It just allows obstacles to take a more physical form for the people who are less able to conjure mental ones."

"But that's an utterly impractical answer! It doesn't make sense that if people have trouble getting over their mental roadblocks, just make physical and _dangerous_ ones! We should try to help those people, not create possibly life-endangering alternatives."

Cedric chuckles at her outrafe and responds, "Honestly Granger, have you never ridden a broom? It's one the best feelings in the world, potentially life-threatening or not."

"So then you're one of those types of people then? The people who can't face their own mental hurdles?" Hermione presses.

For a moment, Cedric pauses as he thinks about it. And then, after a few seconds, he finally says, "Huh. I really don't know."

And just like that, their conversation comes to a stop, Cedric lost in his own musings and Hermione remembering where she was and belatedly wondering if maybe she had been a bit too forthright in her opinion. The silence lingers overhead for a bit, until Hermione decides to break it.

"Diggory," Hermione says, getting his attention.

"Hm?"

"I still don't think you should enter but..." She pauses before going on. "I think you'd make a wonderful Champion. And Hufflepuff definitely deserves that honor."

She refuses to look at him, refuses to see his reaction as she focuses on her book, yet she can still nonetheless feel his grin, the mood lightening somewhat.

"Is that so?" He drawls, his manner reminiscent of Malfoy's cocky attitude, yet at the same time, friendly and playful. "Well, coming from you, Gryffindor, I'll take that as a compliment."

Hermione, despite herself, finds herself smiling though she tries to fight it. Never had she thought she would have found herself in a conversation with Cedric Diggory, much less have actually enjoyed it, yet here she was. And then it all came back to her—she was in the past. If he hadn't died, this might have actually happened in the real timeline. But now she could change it... maybe...

"Hey, what about you?"

Hermione looks up, surprised. "What?"

"Well, when you came in, you looked like you had something on your mind. Now, seeing how I just spilled my guts to you, it only seems fair that you do the same."

Hermione finds herself stuttering, surprised by his attention and tries to regain some sense of her tongue. "Oh, it's just—well, it's nothing."

"Try me. Come on, I'm curious now."

Hermione pauses as she tries to grasp at any idea for a good lie and then says, "Well. Has it ever happened to you that you think of some possible situation you might find yourself in... and then it just suddenly _bugs you_ to no end as you try to figure out what you would do?"

"Well, I suppose I have. What's the situation that's got you all bothered?"

Hermione feels herself colouring, hesitating before she responds, "Well, I was wondering... what would happen if I found myself in the past in a position where I could save lives... but at the expense of the future?"

And once again to her surprise, Cedric seems to take her seriously, thinking it over a bit before he responds. "Well, I suppose it would be rather difficult, wouldn't it? You'd have to manipulate the future quite a bit to get that outcome you want, and the possibility of everything happening favourably would probably be rather low. And then there's considering that every action you take changes the way the future plays out, making the knowledge you already have more useless as you go on." He stops and gives her a curious, speculative look. "Though... Granger, you're a Gryffindor aren't you? Isn't this heroic type of thing your lots' specialty? I would have thought you would jump at the possibility."

"Bold actions without proper directions would just get you no where though," Hermione points out.

Cedric smiles, conceding the point to her. "True. It's too bad you couldn't just ask the centaurs for help—I'm sure this type of situation would be just right up their alley." He stops as his gaze catches sight of the clock. "It's dinner already? I didn't realize so much time had passed."

Hermione turns her head and sees that it is indeed six o'clock. Turning back, she finds herself awkwardly standing up and unsure as to what to do. "Well, I guess I should be going..."

"Why don't we go together?"

At Cedric's interruption, Hermione can't help but find herself somewhat shocked at the sudden invitation, taking a moment to recover, before smiling and saying, "Oh sure, okay."

.—.

"I see you've been talking to Diggory a lot lately," Ron says as Hermione sits down. "You don't think the bloke fancies you?"

Hermione starts to open her mouth and deny it for the obvious reasons, but then she sees Ron's face, almost looking as if he depended on her denial, waiting for it. So instead, she just smiles to play around with him and before he can push the issue any further, Dumbledore has silenced the Hall.

"Now I'm sure you've all seen them arrive... so let it be no surprise when I welcome the girls of the Beauxbatons Academy and their headmistress, Madame Maxime!"

And so Hermione finds herself watching the entrance of the schools yet again just like she had in her fourth year, except this time, instead of watching the schools enter, she takes the time to watch the people's reactions, giggling to herself as she watched Ron's agape mouth as he first stares at Fleur Delacour and then Victor Krum.

But then Dumbledore unveils the Goblet of Fire and Hermione can't help but feel a shiver as she remembers: tonight is the night that Crouch was going to enter Harry's name into the cup. Her mind is buzzing as she listens to Dumbledore repeat the rules, when she suddenly gets an idea. She waits until he stops talking and as the Hall immediately is abuzz with introductions and squealing and whisperings, Hermione pulls Harry away for a bit. She leans close, lowering her voice for a bit as she talks. "Harry. I need to borrow your cloak tonight."

Harry looks at her with a confused look, before his eyes sudden widen and he asks in a hushed voice, "You're not planning on _entering_, are you Hermione?"

"No! I just... need it."

"...Is it Spew?"

"No, it's not SPEW," Hermione pauses and realizes belatedly that SPEW would have actually made a good cover. But then she starts to think about it and realizes that it might be useful if Harry was in on part of her secret, that he could help cover for any of her suspicious behavior. Quickly thinking, she starts to improv a bit. "I'm not sure if this is the best thing to tell you but... I think someone's going to try to kill you this year."

Harry quickly takes a breath and looks around before leaning in closer and lowering his voice. "Wait, what makes you think that"

"I have my suspicions but it's nothing substantial yet...." Hermione says, hoping this half-truth would be enough. Luckily, Harry seems to accept it, so she goes on. "You know how you've been saying you've been having weird dreams? Well, I figured I should go to one of the best people to talk about it... and I need to go tonight. Before the Goblet of Fire chooses the champions."

Harry for a moment is confused before he lights up in a sort of horrified realization. "You think someone's going to enter my name in the Goblet? To kill me?"

"Exactly. Which is why I need to go tonight, the earlier the better."

Harry is silent for a few seconds, seeming to process the information. Then, to her Hermione's surprise, he sets his mouth in a grim line and says, "I'm coming with you."

Hermione opens her mouth to protest but then closes it, realizing she'd actually rather have his company than go into the Forbidden Forest alone. "...Okay. Fine. We leave tonight at nine then."

Harry nods his agreement and goes back to eating, looking quite a bit more troubled than before and H ermione can't help but feel guilty about causing him distress. But then he turns to her and asks, "Wait, so who are you going to see?"

Hermione pauses, her eyes flickering over to Cedric for a brief moment before looking back to Harry. "Oh. Just the centaurs."

.—.

**Author's Notes**: Haha, my god, I can't believe I just referenced Plato. Seminar is reaally starting to get to me, that's scary. But the whole conversation with Hermione and Cedric was really fun (yet really awkward) to write, so it was worth it. Haha, I hope I'm not going in some really weird direction but I guess I'll figure it all out... later. And I will eventually get around to explaining how Hermione ended up in the past. Eventually. Haha, I haven't eveen decided whether I'm going to have Harry be forced into the Triwizard Tournament. Well, I'm sure I'll figure it out later.

Any comments or criticisms are appreciated, so please don't hold back! =D And thank you for reading!


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